Game of Thrones - The Real Story
by WriterAtHeart96
Summary: What if the end was different to how they D&D, better known as Dumb and dumber made it had ended in a very different way. This is a rewrite for Game of Thrones season 8. I'm terrible at summaries but expect similar lines but with different outcomes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I've finally decided to make my own rewrite of game of Thrones, after reading some real jewels hidden on here. I'm going to take my own turn onto things. I have been inspired by many of said jewels and other sources. This story will start at the start of Episode 3, I think most of you can agree that the first two episodes were pretty good. The second episode was probably one of my favourite episodes ever. I would have changed a few things though, like realising that the crypts needed to be made safe by burning the corpses before sending everyone in there.**

**Also I apologise for any similarities you might find as I've said, I've been inspired so many different stories and sources some things might be familiar. Also I apologise in advance for any grammar or other mistakes I might make. English isn't my first language.**

So before I begin, unlike in the third episode and stationing everyone outside of the walls, what a stupid move by the way? I have positioned the Dothraki and Daenerys with Drogon on one hill much like in episode 3. Jon is on the other side the battlefield on another hill with Rhaegal and the riders of the Vale. All the other soldiers are inside of the ring of fire as I shall call it already behind the first defence instead of having them in front of it. Most of the unsullied are in the wall of Winterfell. The main characters are on the wall overlooking the battlefield in front of them.  
So now we begin.

****  
Three times the horn had echoed all around Winterfell as everyone hurried to their positions. Arya and Sansa who'd grown up in this place had never seen this place as packed as it was now as both women of Winterfell made their way to the battlements of Winterfell.

As Arya stepped foot on it, she noticed Gendry stepping onto the battlements as well but from another staircase as they shared a small secretive smile. It was all they had to remind them of what they'd done only hours ago. But for Arya it wasn't necessarily a good thing, he'd made her feel things again.

After having thought him dead for so long, he'd finally been back in front of her. The memories of their nights shared on the road as they fled Kings Landing coming back, though she'd tried to push them back to become a faceless man. But though she'd tried, Gendry had never been far off of her mind and now she was back to feeling things.  
She wasn't sure if she liked that right now as she took her position beside the Hound, Sansa coming up behind her.

There was only darkness they could see, it made her wonder how the person who'd blown the horn had even seen them. But then again the night's watch was probably more used to it. All she could see was a sea of darkness.

And the cold, everyone around felt it, it had been cold before but not like this, never like this. Only those who'd gone behind the wall had known this cold. It wrapped around you as it a blanket would do, only this blanket didn't provide any heat. It sucked all the heat out of their bodies as if it was trying to weaken them already. Many, especially those of Essos had never felt such cold before, it penetrated your skin, deep into your bones.

"Light the trenches," Davos called out, their first line needed to be started right now. The pit filled with flammable material in it, their first line of defence and most hoped it would give them some form of light as well. How could you fight the dead if it was this dark?

Looking down Davos could see the Northman taking their torches from the pits of fire just outside of the wall, attempting to put the trenches alit.

The tension was already high, like something they could cut with just one slice of a knife. If only they could do that, but when they heard the sound of horses galloping, it ran even higher. Were they already coming? The man of the night watch certainly hadn't given the sign that they were approaching. But why could they hear the horses then? If both cavalries were already on opposite hills with Daenarys and Jon.

As if someone was spinning more and more tension around them, the Northman below got more desperate. The sound of hooves approaching in a gallop echoing in the walls of Winterfell, as if it was a countdown. A countdown to death.

With every failed attempt he could see them getting more desperate as more and more Northman joined in. All with one purpose, lighting those fucking trenches before those fuckers were on them.

Seeing a Northman falling over something, another ran right over him in his haste. But no matter how many torches they brought to the trench, it wouldn't ignite. And then with what little light the pits of fire on the ground provided they noticed the horses they'd heard coming.  
At the head of the column someone, they'd never expected to see ever again. Davos most of all since Jon had banned her from ever stepping foot in the North ever again. Now that Jon was away, he wouldn't mind for once swinging the sword to kill her. But what he certainly hadn't expected was for the force of horse riders around her.

"Let them in." Someone else down the line at the top of the battlements called as Davos turned to look who it could be. Realising that Jorah was stepping away from his position, he realised it must have been him. Running down the steps himself, he came eye to eye with the woman that'd murdered the girl he considered his daughter.

"I told you what would happen if I ever saw you again," Davos said menacingly as he stepped closer to her. But it didn't seem to face her as she held her ground. "Don't worry Davos, I won't live much longer," she told him as she looked around, Jorah greeting the man in charge of the just arrived cavalry.

"These are the second sons." Jorah introduced them to Davos as they nodded at one another. "I heard our Queen needed help, though the lion Queen has bought many of the Golden Company, not all of them were willing to follow a non-Targaryen Queen. I give you 3000 Second son's and 4000 past Golden Companies to you." Daario said in that accent Davos had only started to get used to when being surrounded by the Essosi.

"Any help is welcome, our cavalry is on opposite sides outside of the keep though. It's too late to send you out." Davos pointed out as just then the horn, the warning of the man of the night watch echoed through the air.

"They approach," Davos noted, looking up at the sky, praying to all gods he'd ever heard off to help them get through this night. So many lives had already been lost and who knew what the end of the night would give them, only more death was probably the answer.

"Then we'll defend the keep from within," Daario promised him as what small amount of Dragon glass weapons remained were distributed.  
"The trenches aren't lit yet." Someone called out from on top of the battlements.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Melissandre step forward. "Let me," she said as she started to head for the front gate where the Unsullied stood.

On top of the battlements, those who could see her could only watch as they hoped anyone could light the trenches at this point. The dead had started their approach and if those trenches weren't lit than they were even at worse odd than if they were. Davos and Jorah could hear her chanting as they retook their positions. All looking down in worry as the chant filled the air:" Āeksios Ōño, īlōn mīsās!"

But it wasn't the only thing that filled the air however as the approaching screeches and what other sounds the dead made got closer and closer. Arya and most people on the battlements were getting frustrated, the trench wasn't only supposed to protect them for a little while longer. It was supposed to give them lightly as well and they didn't see a fucking thing. Putting her arrow into the fire pit at her feet, she lit it up.

When she was sure it was going to stay lit, she put it to her bow and aimed as far as she could. They needed to see something and those on top of the battlement, Northman, the best of the Dothraki arches and alike could only look on in horror as they got their first glimpse of the death, an army of it.

It made everyone jump alive, realising that their arrows would be a way of defence already as Melissandre continued to chant below them.  
On top of the hills, Daenarys and Jon could only wonder what had gone wrong. They'd heard the warning horn sound. The death had started their attack and the trenches weren't lit yet. They could only see the fires that provided a little light as before, not much else.

"What do you think is going on?" Lord Royce asked, looking up at Jon as he sat on top of his dragon.

"I don't know," Jon uttered in horror and fear. He'd faced these dead a few times already, he knew what was approaching the walls of the home he'd ever known. If those trenches didn't get lit very soon, then all would be lost before it had even begun. Knowing that they needed to stick to their plan.

The only thing Jon and Daenarys could do at this point was look on, hoping that those trenches would get lit. They couldn't leave their position till they were absolutely certain they could attack the fuckers from the rear.

And then a simultaneous sigh filled the air on both sides as they watched that trench spring alive with fire. And though Jon had already seen the army of the death, Danaerys as well, it still shocked them to see them here in Winterfell, south of the wall.

On the walls, they'd been doing the only thing they could with arrows as the trench below and around them finally lit. Lighting up the skies around them from around the walls of Winterfell. It allowed them for the first time to see the army of the dead. The flaming arrows had only allowed them peaks and glimpses. But with the trenches lit and burning, it made them even more terrified of the army that approached them.

'A man can only be brave when he's afraid.' run in Arya's head, her father's words when she asked him how a man could be brave if they were scared. Never had those words been truer than in this moment as she turned around to face Sansa. "Go to the crypts," she ordered her as Sansa looked over Arya's shoulder, she had heard the stories of them, Old Nan being the first to tell them. Then Jon and those who'd gone beyond the wall.

But never had it prepared her to see them there on her doorstep.  
"I'm not abandoning my people." Sansa objected, tilting her chin up. How could she leave the people fighting for her, for her family, for her home and for the people she was responsible for. It was those people she was responsible for that we're going to fight as well. How could she ever abandon them?

"The people in the crypts need someone as well Sansa, take this and go," Arya ordered as she took her dagger out of her belt and pushed it into Sansa's hands. The noise of the approaching dead coming closer and closer as it grew even colder.

"I don't know how to use that?" she said with a small stutter as she could see the dead finally approaching the trench. Stopped by fire for now, but she only wondered for how long that would be as she looked into the sea of blue eyes, almost alive and yet dead at the same time.

"stick them with the pointy end," she ordered her older sister as she turned her around with a shove. "GO!" she yelled at her sister as she nodded her head and ran down the stairs, heading for the crypts where all the woman and children were. She wondered only for a moment if it wouldn't have been better for everyone to hide down there and let them simply think everyone was gone. But she couldn't let more innocents die. The face of small Ned Umber came to her as she thought of his death, no enough had died.

And as she locked the thick and heavy door behind her, the noises and cold lessened somewhat. But she was convinced that no matter what, she'd never forgotten them anyway.

Back on the battlements, a rain of arrows flew from them, igniting anybody it touched and with a bit of hope those around them. It was only a small consolation though as they kept the arrows going as they started to notice the death jumping onto the flames.

The first few who did burn, but soon a stack was forming and a bridge was formed. It seemed they weren't as dumb as everyone had thought after all as they broke through the defence line. As if a river had overrun its capacity and small streams were escaping it they filtered through.

"At the ready." Davos voice called over the battlements and below as the unsullied started to attack those approaching them. But they soon realised that they were no match for the dead and if you'd looked at them. You'd realise that for the very first time there was fear in the eyes of the bravest of soldiers called the unsullied.

Grey worm took a small breath of relief when the large gate finally closed behind them. It wouldn't give them a reprieve for very long though but it's all they got. Now they'd have to fight on their turf, surrounded by walls, it offered them at least a bit of protection.

But as he stepped further into the keep, looking up he noticed the dead crawling over the wall like spiders. Those on the battlements trying hard to push them back and kill them as they soon too had to retreat into the ground below.

"Now it's our turn." Lord Ryce said as Jon urged Rhaegal to take flight as the horses and their riders started to go down the slope. The dead were so focused on what's in front of them, they wouldn't notice what was behind them as he noticed high up in the sky that Daenarys had taken to the skies as well.

He pushed the feeling and the look she'd given him in the crypts before to the back of his head. Right now was not the time to think of who was his father and who wasn't? Who the rightful heir to the throne was or isn't? This was life and death and it was the only thing that should matter as he uttered the words Dany had told him before.

"Dracarys," he whispered, but it was enough for Rhaegal to know what to do. It was the first time that he felt him breathe out fire. Before it had only been practice flights to get him more familiar with riding a dragon, now he was urging it to breathe fire as well. It lit the end of the army of the dead up and a lot of giants it seemed as they were all put to fire, falling to the ground. Daenarys came towards him from the opposite side burning another row of wights.

"Keep an eye out Dany," he yelled out, knowing they'd have to keep an eye out for the Night King. As he turned around to make another sweep, this time more careful since the Dothraki had now stormed the sides of the army, slicing them with their Araks, embroidered with tiny flecks of Dragonglass. More and more wights falling to the ground as he swept through them with fire.

Seeing a glimpse of light from his right he pulled on the spikes on Rhaegal's back as he realised it was an ice spear. It was the thing that had lost them one dragon already, they couldn't bear to lose another was as he headed in the direction of where the spear had come. If he could take out the white walkers then they'd get the wights killed with one final and quick swoop.

Looking over his shoulder he could see Dany continuing to put the army afire with Drogon as he headed for the now visible White walkers, there had to be at least a hundred of them he realised, all lined up and watching the battle with almost hopeful looks as he uttered the words. "Dracarys."

But before Rhaegal could even take a breath he noticed the and then felt the collision all too quickly. A blue flame spurting from underneath Rhaegal as Rhaegal seemed to bite and attack it's head, not that it helped much as he clung onto his back as if his life depended on it.

There was not much else he could do as it took them higher and higher up the now fog-covered battlefield. Hearing a roar from his right he realised Drogon and Daenarys had come to his aid as they battled the skies.

Down below all they could do was fight as the fog filtered into the keep. More and more weights were trying to get over the walls as the door vibrated with each hit the two giants made to it, Arya had seen them come through the wights but they hadn't been able to do anything about them as they were getting swamped on the wall of the keep by wights and then she felt it.

The doors vibrating the walls as they hit off of the walls. She could only hurry down the stairs as she along with The Hound, Tormund, Ed and Beric tried to attack it, but it was way too big as it took another man up, one from the nights watch as Ed charged it with his spear as the night's watch guy fell to the ground as the Giant now focussed on Ed.

"Watch out," she called, trying to pull him back, but she was only pulled back by someone else who turned out to be Beric. Looking up in horror she could only watch as the giants started to crush the night's watch brother of Jon. She knew he cared about him a lot and wanted to help, but she couldn't do anything at all.

But it seemed he wasn't going down with a fight as with his dying breath he reached out with his Dragon glass dagger and threw it in his eye and both collapsed on the ground.

There was nothing more they could do however as the wights surrounded them and she pulled out her spear that Gendry had made and handed to her hours before. Wielding it like a true and fierce battle woman she charged up the stairs as if something inside of her had been unlocked. Seeing Davos being cornered against one of the watchtowers she charged towards him, slaying any who may cross her.

"Go," she called out to him as she charged through the watchtower as she was knocked into a wall.

Down below they were being overrun by weights. Even Daario who'd been warned that they'd be fighting the dead. Being told they existed and believing it had been two very different things. But his Queen needed him and that was all that was needed for him.

But being in this battle, it was unlike anything else he'd been in before as he started to fight back to back with someone he didn't even know, a redheaded almost giant and an almost bald younger man with a wielding hammer as they were being pushed more and more into each other.

Beric fighting off wights, Clegane hiding, almost petrified from the fire. the wall behind him the only thing keeping him up. So much destruction and death, all the fire around him as he heard Beric call out. "Clegane?!"

"Clegane?!" Beric repeated as he finally turned around to face the man of the brotherhood without banners. "Clegane we need you." said the fool, throwing around his flaming sword whilst as he approached him.

"don't give up on us," Beric said, trying to get his friend into some sort of action. He was a capable fighter and they needed the fighters amongst them as they keep was being swamped by dead man.

"Oh fuck off, it can't be done." Clegane snapped at him in fury and fear. That stupid flaming sword of his, the fucking dead, all the fire and dead around him. It couldn't be fucking done, they couldn't beat this, even if they'd had those fucking elephants and more armies, it couldn't get fucking done and they were stupid to consider that it could. Those damn fuckers were fucking crazy.

"Can't you see that you stupid whore," he said, dropping his head to his chest in defeat.

"We're all fucking dead." he spat out, looking ahead of him and the cold stones of the keep.

"It can't be done," he repeated, dropping his head again as Beric turned his head in the direction of Arya's voice and noises she was making as she fought of the wight charging her. He watched her leap onto a roof as a wight jumped right on top of her.

"Tell her that," Beric said, getting Clegane's attention as he pointed upwards to the roof where Arya was trying to hold on to the roof with all her might. Clegane finally looking up noticed the person he'd started to care about as a daughter struggling. They watched as she let herself fall from it and Beric could only sigh in relief when Clegane charged passed him and towards the young girl who was probably one of the fiercest warriors right now.

Back up in the skies, Jon lost the struggle of holding onto Rhaegal as he fell to the ground. He rolled off of his dragon and down into the mountain of corpses, some faces he knew, others he didn't as he watched the Night King falling to the ground.

He was about 150 meters in front of him as he started to charge towards him. He could only look on horror as he got closer to him and he raised his hands. The dead around him, their eyes all becoming blue as they started to rise at the command of the monster in front of him. All the dead starting to charge him at their slow pace.

And that mad fucker had the balls to smirk at him as all of a sudden there was fire all around him. Looking up he could see Daenarys looking down at him, a small smile on her lips.

And then she flew Drogon to the Night King. He saw her uttering the words as he started to fight off what was left of the wights around him. But all he could see when the ball of fire was gone was the Night King smirking up at Daenarys as he picked up his ice spear and then she was off.

He could only look on helplessly as the Night King walked through the hole he'd blown in the wall of the keep by now. Daenarys was back as she tried to burn the bodies around them, trying to help Jon on the ground as she landed Drogon. "Bran;" Jon called out, looking up at his Queen.

"Go," she yelled out to him as Drogon started to get restless beneath her. "Alright sweet one," she whispered in Valaryian as she looked around though she realised what got him restless as wights started to crawl on top of him, stabbing him with their blades as he started to shake himself. All in an attempt to get him off of her as she tried to hold on. But as he took flight, she barely had a hold on him as she fell to the ground with a thud.

Pain searing up her spine as she looked up, seeing her son flying off, still trying to shake the wights off of him. All of them falling to the ground around her as she tried to crawl back and away from them.  
She had no one, not her dragon, not her protectors, not even a damn sword. This was how she ended? Without the Iron Throne? Without anyone around her?

She'd die all alone on the battlefield as she saw a Dothraki with blue eyes look at her and charge towards her. Those had been her man, and now they were just an addition to the night king's army. She could only crawl more and more back as, trying to get away from him and ignoring the pain. She felt her hand land on a sword, dragon glass on it. It would be her only thing to save her.

Nothing else or no one else was going to help her. When she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders however she thought she was dead. She'd been so focused on what was in front of her that she hadn't thought to consider what was behind her.

But looking up she let out a small relieved sigh as she came eye to eye with Jorah. Her protector, her sworn shield. He'd never let her down and it seemed not even battle with the dead could stop him from coming to her aid as he lifted her and killed any wight in front of them. And that with the sword who'd belonged to the two men she'd burned alive. The irony on her wasn't lost as she watched Heartbane in her protector's hands, protecting her.

The wights started to form a circle around them, back to back they circled each other. A wight coming forth here and there. And when she could hear a snarling grown from behind them, she feared the worst as she and Jorah tried to fight them off as best as they could. All was lost it seemed, the air of death and fire filled her nose, this was how she ended.

Inside of the castle, Arya had only one thought, run. The irony wasn't lost on her either. 'I look forward to seeing this one.' the dead she'd meant when she'd been showing off her skill to Gendry. Never had she felt more like an idiot than now. She'd been so sure of herself, the death. Facing them and protecting her home, to kill them all.

But right now with hundreds of wights on her tail. Blood was dripping down her brow, some of it in her eye. The stench was horrible, like a thousand decaying corpses, which they were. But still, she'd never imagined this to be like it was.

When she couldn't get the door to open quickly enough, her hands trembling in fear. She could feel the cold, dead and bony hands tug and scratch on her as she tried to force the door open. With a force of them piling up on her and finally getting the door open she collapsed, the door underneath her as she tried to kick and fight the wight that landed on her.

She couldn't die in her own house, this was her home. She was finally back, all the people she'd ever loved and cared about. All of them, they were all here, she finally had her pack together and this was where she was going to die. Jon, Sansa and Bran, neither of them would know how much she loved them. Gendry, the man she'd loved for so long without even realising it, he was never going to finally hear her admit it.

That she loved him, hell even the Hound, he'd been like a father to her, neither of them would get to hear how much she appreciated what they'd done for her. All this death, all the killing, she'd loved it so much, she was a killer, an assassin. But this was even worse, she was staring the walking dead in the eye and it terrified her.

Still kicking and screaming she finally felt a hand tug on her. "Sandor." she gasped as he pulled her up. Her small frame nothing compared to the giant man as he took her under his arm. Beric right behind them with his flaming sword, holding off the wights as Sandor ran with her through the hallways.

"No." she cried, seeing Beric hold onto the walls, making himself a human shield for them as he took several swords to his body. All in the attempt to give them more time. Bleeding and close to death he ran up to them as they ran into the great hall. The fire roaring in the heart as Sandor blocked the door with whatever he could.

"Beric," she whispered, putting her hands on his wounds, but the only thing it did was push even more blood out of him. Her hands were covered with it as he looked her in the eye.

A small smile on his face as she watched the light go out in his eyes. He'd died protecting her, she'd put him on her list. Her list of people to kill and now she'd tried to save him from death. He'd died protecting her as she tried to get him back alive.

"His purpose is served." she heard the woman who'd made him put her on her list say from behind her. Getting up with a new resolve, he hadn't died in vain. Walking over to the red woman who'd taken Gendry away from her.

"I know you," she said, walking closer to her as Mellisandre said. "And I know you.

Still out of breath from her fight with the wights she stood in front of her. "You said we'd meet again." Arya pointed out, looking up at that woman. The red woman who she'd sworn to kill, but that wasn't high on her list of priorities at the moment.

"and here we are, at the end of the world," Mellisandre said, looking down into the eyes of the young girl she'd met so many years on the road from Kings Landing.

"You said I'd shut many eyes forever." she paused, trying to catch her breath, looking up at her as she watched Sandor sit down on something out of the corner of her eye.

"You were right about that too," she confirmed, it was meant to be a warning, but it didn't hold much warning as she listened to her voice.

"Brown eyes, green eyes and blue eyes," she said, their eyes locking when she said blue eyes. All whilst they could hear the screeching and the sounds of the wight from outside. Melissandre gave her a tiny smile as the sound increased, coming from the hallway they'd just fled out of.

Looking towards the door, the noise suddenly lessened as a growl could be heard from it. And then there was almost silence from it as Melissandre came to stand beside her.

"What do we say to the god of death?" Melisandre asked her, leaning down a little as she looked down at the small girl beside her.

"Not today." she finally said, those words she'd learned a long time ago. turning back to look at the red woman, they shared a knowing look as she finally turned around and started to walk off, out of the great hall, but it ended being a full run.

No matter how hard he tried, Jon couldn't get passed the dead dragon. The blue flame lighting everything up in the small courtyard he had to get through to get to Bran.

For all, he knew the Night King was there already. He'd had a head start after all as he looked behind the pillar. Seeing that the dragon's attention was focussed elsewhere he made a run for it, jumping behind a pile of corpses just in time as the dragon breathed its blue flame in his direction. The stench that surrounded him was horrendous. It filled his nostrils, the stench of blood, death and fire and ash.

He'd faced these bastards before, but never like this. He feared for Winterfell and all those inside of it. He'd thought, no hoped that they'd be able to defeat him. But right now all that hope was starting to get lost on him. He couldn't get past the bloody dragon.

Theon could only lay down on the ground, looking at Bran in his warg state. Looking to his right, brave Lyanna Mormont was already dead, fought, protecting Bran.

Bran, he was helpless, they'd sworn to protect him, he was already in a wheelchair. And now he was warging, he was at his most helplessness. And he could feel the life draining out of him. He could only look on as The Night King touched Bran's shoulder.

Bran in his warg state was stood at the heart tree, where he'd in previous visions seen the Night King be made by the children of the forest. And then that man he'd seen turned stood in front of him, he knew it was the night king, but as a man.

"Why do you think I want you dead?" The Night King asked him with a tilt of his head. His voice icy and uncomfortable.

"My death will break the bond I have with the children of the forest. It will give you unlimited power, you'll be free to take the rest of Westeros and the lands beside it without anyone being able to stop you." Bran explained something he'd figured out through all his warging and previous visions.

If he was dead than the connection between the past and the now was broken. The stories couldn't move on and he'd destroy every living soul on Westeros and beside it.

Looking up at the man, stood in front of him shaking his head. "I only want this bond broken, so I can finally have freedom," he stated with eyes looking into Bran's, stating what he wants by killing Bran and breaking the connection between him and the children of the forest.

"I was cursed by them to kill the living and lead the army of the dead. Something I as a man never wanted to do. You need to be killed so I can be freed of that burden. So I can finally live." The man in front of Bran explained, telling him the real reason behind all of it. He only wanted to live and do it with freedom.

"If I allow you to kill me, then you and your army must go back to the lands of always winter," Bran said, hoping that it would save Westeros and all the lives that resided in it.

"You shall take my life in order to leave the living in peace and freedom as well," Bran told him, looking into the eyes of the man behind the Night King. He watched as the man turned to look at the weirwood tree beside them. Resting his hand against it, he closed his eyes for a split second.

Turning his head back to look at Bran he opened them again. "On one condition." The Night King said as Bran nodded his head for him to go on.

"You will offer me a living child every year, so it may be turned into a white walker. It's the deal I had with Crasters to keep him alive. I need one child every year." he demanded, looking down at the young boy in his chair, it would be so easy to kill him. But if it would give him his peace, so be it.

"Alright," Bran said, nodding his head. "But not just any child." The night king finally said, looking down at the boy, a grin appearing on his face.

"I want the child from the man who took a child from me." He said as Bran tilted his head in confusion. What did he mean by that?

"The white walkers are my children, much like the Dragons are Fire's children and Wolves are Ice's children," he said as Bran nodded, knowing to who he was referring here, understanding the connection between the night king and his commanders. No his children, they were his children like Drogon and Rhaegal to Daenarys and Ghost to Jon.

"And who's child do you want?" Bran asked as the Night grin smirked at him. "The child of the Dragonriders. I want the child of Ice and Fire. Ice killed my child so I want his in return. A child for a child." he explained, a sickening smile appearing on his face as Bran looked up at him, realising that Daenarys was pregnant with Jon's child at that moment.

"Alright," Bran whispered, warging a connection between him and Jon. He needed to tell someone of this, he needed to make sure that this deal stayed and stuck in order to save everyone else. He showed Jon the conversation he and the Night King just had.

As Bran lost the connection, Jon was still shielding himself behind the pile-up from the dragon. At that moment he too realised that Dany was pregnant with their child. A child of Ice and Fire as the blood night king had said. He couldn't let that happen, and he couldn't allow Bran to give his life like that either. Jumping up, he didn't care about that fucking dragon behind him any more.

He arrives in the godswood to late. Bran is back in himself, looking down at a dying Theon, he thanks him for all he's done as he watches the light go out of Theon's eyes. He turns back to look at the Night King, a bargain struck, his life for the rest of the living. One life for millions, nodding his head, the night king nods his head back as he starts reaching for his blade.

Jon can only look on as he tried to make it to them in time to Bran. But he's too late, he evaporates just like the three-eyed raven before him did. There isn't even a body to proof that Bran had ever been there. He watches as blue light filters over the Night King as he puts his blade back, the remaining wights around them stand back, stopping their fighting.

Still looking on in shock, he feels a small breeze from behind him as Arya appears in view. "Arya no," he calls out just too late as he watches the night king grab her by the throat. The knife, given to her by Bran who got it from Littlefinger raised in her hand as if she was ready to strike him.

He watches as she drops the knife to her still freehand. The Night king following the movement with his eyes, a small smile on his face as Arya pushes the blade into him. But it doesn't even get that far as the blade smashes into a million pieces as he flings Arya towards him, gasping for breath.

"Remember the deal," he tells Jon as he walks past him, his white walker and wights following after him as he looked down at his little sister.  
"You alright?" he asks her as she tries to rub her throat. She'd never felt such coldness as when he wrapped his hands around her throat. She was sure that she'd never warm up ever again.

"Go," she orders her brother as she tries to get her breath back. Running out of the whole the night king had blown he sees Rhaegal as if sensing his rider's needs land in front of him.

He crawls on top of him as he goes after the night king. "Dracarys," he yells as he makes Rhaegal spew fire onto him. He knows that it probably won't work, it didn't work with Daenarys before either, but he has to try. He won't let his child be turned into one of them, he won't lose his and Daenerys child to this sick son of a bitch. "One year Ice." the Night king says as she gets on top of a horse and starts riding off, the remaining wights following after him.

All those in Winterfell still alive, which were more than they could have hoped for. All of them were clueless about what could possibly have happened. At one point the wights had just stopped fighting, they'd killed off as many as they could as they just stood there, looking. Not doing anything but watching, it had been eerie, to say the least. But so many of theirs had been killed.

Now it was their turn to kill them. And then they'd simply started to walk off where they'd come from.  
The only person who did know something was Jon Snow as he landed Rhaegal near Drogon, hunched over Daenarys as she was surrounded by a something he'd never expected to see.

**So that's the first chapter of my Game of Thrones season 8 re-write. I hope you've enjoyed it, please do leave behind a small comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'll only post the new chapter if I know that there's an interest in this story. So I hope you guys will leave behind some commentary for me to work with. It there are any plot holes or mistakes, please do let me know, I'll try and rectify them.**


	2. Aftermath - What the hell happened?

**Summary: ****Now the battle of Winterfell is over. The Long Night is finished? Or is it only the beginning of it? Now the characters have to pick up the pieces after the battle. The event will set a myriad of things in motions, make people's views chance on what they really believe in and realise that not only anger and hate should be the drive of what remains after facing the dead.**

**A/N:So I hoped that you guys liked the previous chapter, I know that some of you might doubt how it ended with the Night King winning. But like I said, it's a fix-it story and since in my eyes The Night King was always the real enemy, I decided to aim for a different course.**

**As I've said before I was inspired by many sources from both videos on youtube as to how they'd rewrite the Season 8 to being inspired from other stories on her. If I have offended anyone by that, I apologise once more. I only want to create a story which could have been a possibility for the real ending of Game of Thrones. Will it be better than the real ending? I can only hope it would be more to your liking than the real thing. **

**My only hope if for my readers to enjoy what I write and to get lost in the world we all so dearly love. A lot of these characters are close to my heart and I'm still trying to figure out future chapters and what I'll change from my inspirations and what I want for the story itself. Now I hope you enjoy what I did with the chapter below and please leave behind some commentary that I can take with me to the next chapter.**

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"Dany." Jon called out as he got off of Rhaegal, careful of the pack of wolves around them. He'd never seen as many as there were in front of him. And the leader of the pack was a dire-wolf without a doubt.

But when he walked passed them, they didn't attack him, they only sat on their haunches as some of them headed for the entrance to the keep. "Dany," Jon repeated as she sat on the ground, Jorah's head resting in her lap as she held onto his hand.

"We need to get help," Daenarys said, looking up at Jon with a tilt of her head as Jorah looked up at Jon.

"Let's get him inside the keep, Sam will know what to do," Jon said as he crouched beside a wounded Jorah. He wasn't sure if he'd make it, he had several stab wounds in his stomach, torso and slices on his arms and legs. Daenerys seemed to have a few cuts and scrapes as well. But he knew how much Jorah meant to her, he'd been there on this entire journey with her.

He could see the fear for Jorah's life etched in her eyes as he went to cup her cheek. Fearful that she'd pull away, he still remembered their conversation of a few hours earlier. He hoped that they'd be able to get over it, that he was a Targaryen as well as a Stark. now that they had a baby on the way. Not much else mattered to him than those he loved and despite her probably still being angry at him, he still loved her and their unborn child.

He knew that they'd have to find a way to keep that child with them. He'd never offer it up to that Night King. He wouldn't let his child be used as another sick addition to his army. Who was to say that he even kept to the deal he'd struck with Bran. Would anyone even believe him? Only he and the Night King were alive and aware of said deal.

But then again, all those alive had seen the retreating forms of Night King, White Walkers and wights. They'd left like they'd appeared, all without a second glance backwards.

At this point, he didn't care for much else than the woman he loved, their unborn child and his family. He'd seen his brother, no cousin getting killed right in front of him, they didn't even have a body to burn or bury. There was nothing left of Brandon Stark, only a deal he'd struck with The Night King.

"Are you okay?" Jon asked Daenarys as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against her cheek. "I'm more worried about Jorah," she said, looking down at her faithful and brave knight and friend.

He'd been there since the day she'd married Khal Drogo. He'd been there with her throughout it all. And though she'd long forgiven him for how their relationship started, with betrayal. He'd never really done anything to hurt her, the opposite even when she'd banned him from Mereen, he'd still come back into the fighting pits.

And when the Sons of the Harpy had attacked her, he'd been there at her side. As he'd always been protecting her against the evil around her. Then he was there, getting her back when she'd been taken by the Dothraki. He was part of the reason that she'd been able to take over the Dothraki like that, he'd helped her lock into the building with the Khals and their bloodriders.

And now when she'd lost all hope and expected nothing more than to die at the hands of her loyal soldiers turned to wights. When she was staring death in the eyes, thinking she'd die all alone, he was back at her side. Protecting her, taking slashes of the sword for her.

"Sam was able to save him from Grey Scale, I'm sure he can save him again," Jon told her with a hopeful tone, hoping that his words wouldn't be just that. He hoped that his friend would be able to help Jorah, he respected the brave knight and he knew they'd need him in the future. Even if he wasn't able to fight, Daenarys would need him and that was all he needed to know.

"But I killed his brother and father, he won't want to help me now," Daenarys said as she got up off of the ground with Jon's help as she wiped the tears angrily away.

"He'll never deny helping someone Dany, he's still hurting," Jon told her, hoping that Sam was still even alive to help them as he bends down, ignoring his pain as he slung Jorah over his shoulder. "We're going to get you help, Ser Jorah," Jon promised him as he felt something nudge his free side, Dany was on his left, holding onto her faithful friend. Turning around he came eye to eye with Ghost as he nudged Jorah's head.

Feeling his own body struggling with the strain of battle, he put Jorah on Ghost's back. He didn't seem to mind it appeared as he walked between him and Daenarys, carrying the injured knight into the keep. Jon tried to ignore all the death around him for now though. There would be time to burn and say goodbye to them later.

Right now they needed to worry about those still alive, he hoped there were still people alive to save. He didn't know how bad the battle had gotten on the ground. He could only hope that Arya had survived the battle. Sansa was probably save in the crypts, but Arya, well she'd been on the battlements and then she'd been attacked by the Night King. She'd been alright when he left her there, but that didn't mean anything. After seeing Jorah to anyone being able to help him, he'd go and look for Arya.

Walking into the courtyard where the dragon had burned everything, he noticed people walking around. All of them helping the more injured ones, he hoped to see Arya around somewhere. To see Sam and those he cared about around him. But he couldn't see them anywhere as they headed for the main court. More people appeared to be alive there, sure there were plenty of dead and that was minus the ones who'd been turned by the Night King.

"Sam," Jon called out, relief filling his chest when he saw his faithful friend. His brother of the Night's Watch. He who'd been there in this battle with the dead since the start.

Opening his arms, the two embraced one another in relief to see each other still alive. "Edd fell attacking a giant," Sam told him, having seen his friend charge towards the giant, only to be slain but not before he'd gotten his own kill in. He'd tried looking for their friend, but he'd been slain before the dead had risen again. So he wasn't too hopeful to find them amongst the corpses still around.

"We have time to mourn later friend, now would you be willing to look after Jorah, he's injured?" Jon asked his friend as Sam immediately charged towards the friend he'd made in Old Town. "Ser Jorah." he gasped as Ghost knelt so they'd be able to get to him better as a few more men not too injured came over.

"Daario?" Daenerys' shocked and stunned voice made him turn and look at her.

"My Queen." He said with a smile, dipping down in front of her as Daenarys leapt forward throwing her arms around her former lover and friend.

"Why are you here?" Daenerys asked him with a confused shake of her head.

"The red priestess came to get us, all the second sons are here, although I'm not sure how many survived the night. And we have over 4000 soldiers from the Golden Company, now a part of the Second sons," he explained as she looked around and saw a few familiar faces who belonged to the Second Sons.

"Jorah, he's injured, will you help get him inside?" Daenerys asked her friend as Daario took a glance at the injured Jorah, being cared for by a man that he'd seen battling along, but had doubted he belonged there.

"Alright, as My Queen commands," Daario said with that familiar smirk on his face as Daenarys looked him over. He had cuts and scrapes, covered in dirt and blood. But all in all, he seemed to be alright as he along with Jon lifted Jorah and carried him into the Great Hall where the Maester was already treating people.

She could see Sansa already there from the Crypts, caring for the less injured. Moving from table to table, helping to sow and wrap bandages, her own hands already covered with the blood of the men and women she'd tried to help.

"Your Grace," Tyrion called, seeing his Queen alive, injured and covered in filth and blood. The white garb she'd worn no longer white, but a reddish-brown colour as he hurried over to her. "Are you alright? Do you need the Maester?" Tyrion asked her as she looked down at her faithful hand.

All her petty arguments, all the silly fights they'd had about what to do and what not to do to get her Iron Throne. All of it seemed so petty and stupid as she looked around the Great Hall. The air was filled with blood and the stench of death and battle. The men and women, all brave in their right crying and moaning in pain. Some more injured than others as people tended to them. Turning to look at Jorah on a table beside her, Sam working on his with a determined set of his shoulders.

All this death, her people as she'd called them. The people she'd be responsible for already was responsible for. All of them had fought for the real battle. She had no idea why the battle had stopped all of a sudden. Someone had to have the answers to it, but she wasn't sure who. It was something to figure out later on when the injured had been cared for.

But the battle had changed her, looking towards Jon as he left the Great Hall. The words they'd spoken right after they'd burned their deceased Stark family members in the crypts. He was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Before the battle, all that had mattered was the anger she'd felt, the anger of being betrayed by the man she loved. The loss, knowing that what she'd fought to get in years was to be taken over by the man she loved.

She'd been so angry at him, wanting to kill him there and then. But now, all that anger was gone. Love was more important, love and family, these people had sacrificed so much in order to make sure that those they loved would be safe. That was what mattered? Questions would come later, but now she'd do what her people needed her.

"I'm alright Tyrion, a few scrapes and bruises. Don't worry about me, these men and woman need more help than I do." She said with a new determination as she took off her filthy coat as she went to sit at the head of Jorah as Sam dug around in a stab wound in his stomach.

"Will he make it?" Dany asked with a desperation in her voice as she looked at Sam. The one who'd told Jon about his parentage, another man she'd been angry at before the battle. She'd murdered his brother and father. She thought it had been revenge on his part and maybe the grief for his family had urged him to tell Jon. But right now, she realised that he'd only done right by his friend. He'd probably known longer about Jon's longing to finally know who his mother was.

"I'll do what I can, the rest is up to him," Sam muttered, still focused on his friend's wounds. He'd already saved him once. He wouldn't let it have been for nothing. He needed to save him again.

Sansa looked around the Great Hall, the moment the fighting had stopped above them, she'd rushed up the stairs. She wasn't sure who had won, but in case the living had won, she'd need to take care of her people. If that meant giving her life in case the dead had won, well so be it.

But as she'd opened the door, pushing hard against it, corpses right behind it. Those who'd died protecting the door that housed the women and children. Looking down at them, she felt a tear run down her cold cheek as she felt Tyrion take a hold of her hand.

"They died protecting us, we'll mourn them later My Lady. Now we need to look towards the living." Tyrion told her, knowing how hard it was for her. He'd seen how much she cared for her people. And he knew it hurt her to see those who'd lain their lives down to save them.

"Let's take the injured to the great hall, we'll make sure the fire is going strong. Fetch the Maester and possible Sam as well. We'll need everyone who can help in saving the injured." Sansa ordered and for once Tyrion took orders from someone else than his Queen. Looking back at him at the women who'd come up with them.

"Everyone who's able to take care of injured men and women. Even if it's only to comfort the injured, go to the great hall, Lady Sansa will be waiting on you over there." Tyrion instructed as he left his position at the door. He'd been stuck in that damn crypt. Hearing the screams and pounding, the slashing and screaming of battle above them.

Sure he'd been worried about his Queen, but she was on top of a dragon, he wasn't as worried about her as he'd been about his brother. He'd been there right on the battlements he'd seen her last. But looking around the courtyard he couldn't see him anywhere. Only piles of corpses and even that seemed like too few in his mind. Where were the wights, had there only been that few, that wasn't even possible?

Corpses littered around for sure, but not in the amount he'd expected them to do. What the hell had happened up here? Looking around again, he saw the Baratheon bastard looking around as if he was searching for something. The red wildling wasn't too far behind as they looked between the corpses, sending the injured the entrance of the Great Hall. It seemed not only Lady Sansa had gotten the idea to use it as a temporary infirmary.

"Have you seen my brother, Jaimie Lannister?" Tyrion asked one of the passing Northman carrying an injured man on a beam it seemed with three others. "Last I saw he was at being cornered there," he told the dwarf, but like before there wasn't any hatred or any other sort of anger attached to it. There was only defeat and exhaustion to hear in his voice. Understandable since they'd been fighting the dead who didn't tire.

Going in the direction of where the Northman had pointed him, he went around a pile of dead wights as he looked at the wall. And there his brother was, his shoulders heaving in relief, he quickened his pace to get to him. Though he seemed bloody and all over-exhausted, he didn't seem to be too injured.

"Jaimie," he called out as he turned around from where he'd been checking over Pod with Brienne. His old squire seemed to have taken the brunt of it as Jaimie and Brienne appeared to be more or less alright.

"Thank god you're alive," Tyrion said, not caring that anyone saw at this moment as he slung his arms around his older brother.

"Me too," Jaimie admitted, taking his younger brother in his arms. He had no clue as to why the wights had simply walked off in the direction where they'd come from. No one seemed to have any clue about it, but for now, they had a respite of some sort it seemed. they'd take it for what it was and take care of their injured.

Never had he been more angered at his sister, yes he'd been angry and disappointed at Cersei when coming here. To break her promise and go behind these people's back whilst getting more soldier to eventually fight them. But those men and women he was surrounded by, he never thought he'd feel a sense of belonging with them. He was now a part of them, no more angry looks, sure distrustful, but no longer anger.

It seemed that having fought the dead alongside them had helped in some way as the sun rose over Winterfell. Battle had a way of connecting people and it seemed the same had been true here. He'd fought with them and now they needed to rebuild from what they'd lost.

But he'd never felt more betrayed by his sister than right now. He was furious at her, if she'd sent her forces they'd have stood a better chance. Looking around all he saw was death, the stench of it. No matter what if she'd come through on her promise, most of these people might still be alive. She was a coward and selfish, only now he really saw her for what he was. He thought about it hard before already on his way here.

But seeing the result of her lies and empty promises, it was like adding fuel to an already small fire. He'd never forgive her for that.

"We'll talk later brother," Jaimie promised his younger brother. "Let's take care of our injured for now," he added as Tyrion nodded his head at them.

"Sansa ordered for the injured to be taken into the Great Hall, it'll be the best place to take care of them all," Tyrion explained, looking at Pod holding onto his bleeding leg.

"You'll be alright Pod, you survived the death, this only seems like a walk compared to that," Tyrion told him with a pat on his shoulder as he gave him a tiny smile, but the agony was still clear in his eyes.

"I'm going to look for our Queen," Tyrion said as he watched Jaimie and Brienne take Pod to the Great Hall.

Gendry didn't know where to look for Arya, he'd last seen her using the staff he'd made her on the battlements. But he hadn't seen her since then, and though he'd wanted to go and look for her. He could hardly say to these sons of bitches to wait whilst he searched for the woman who'd been a pain in his ass since she was a mere child.

He'd fought back to back with Tormund and some guy who'd arrived just before the battle begun. The three of them had been able to keep their ground even though at times he'd feared for his own life and that of those who he fought alongside with.

"Did you see Arya?" Gendry asked Tormund, the gruff man but it seemed with a soft heart it seemed as he was looking at the big woman as he called her. "No, I saw her fighting like a wolf though, that's a little spitfire though isn't she?" Tormund grinned, he had respect for any warrior, whether they be male or female. And that little wolf sister of Jon, well she had to be one of the fiercest warriors on this battlefield.

"I'm sure she's still alive though," he told the worried young man beside him as he saw him looking around in worry. "She's a real warrior," Tormund added with a hint of pride and want in his voice as Gendry raised his brow at him at hearing the tone.

For now, they could only look on, search the piles of bodies for injured and sent them along with the flow which seemed to be headed for the Great Hall.

****  
Back in the weir wood tree, Arya was pissed, she'd meant to save her brother, but she'd been too late. What do we say to the god of death? Not today. Well, that was a big piece of shit right now.

The god of death had come and taken her brother away from her. Though he wasn't the same cheery boy she'd once known. He was still her brother and she loved him no matter what?

She'd failed herself, her brothers, her sisters and the people of the North. The knife Bran had given her only days before hadn't done anything to the Night King. It had shattered when getting in contact with him. He was too strong now, nothing could kill him if Valaryian steel wouldn't do the job.

And why had he even walked off like that? Hadn't Bran said that he wanted to kill him to start with? Kill him so that no memories of men could exist any longer. He should have kept on going, knowing his biggest enemy was dead, he should have killed every single one of them.

And they were more than capable at that, they were human with a beating heart. They needed rest, those dead things certainly hadn't, whilst the living tired, the dead rose and fought. If he'd wanted to, he could have wiped out entire Winterfell and the North before making his way South.

Making it an eternal night, but that hadn't been the case at all. No, he'd simply walked off after murdering Bran. And why had he told Jon 'One Year' as if he was meant to know what it meant? How could Jon know what had happened? Sure he'd been there fighting off White Walkers and wights in his attempt to reach the Night King. But still, it didn't seem like the Night King was much for talking after all.

So many questions and so little answers she got. What do we say to the god of death?' she wondered now, it didn't mean anything did it? Only another story she'd been told and been stupid enough to believe. What was there left when she didn't have what she stood for all these years. She was great at killing people, promising the god of death names. But what if he wasn't real?

Sure she had her revenge, her list lessened considerably. But was that all there was left to live. When she heard a small whine to her right she turned her head and came eye to eye with something she'd only seen weeks before.

"Nymeria?" she asked, her hand reaching out to her dire wolf she'd sent off so many years ago, and again a few weeks ago.

"We're home," she whispered as Nymeria sat back on her haunches, placing her giant paw on Arya's leg.

"That's not you." she'd said to her a few weeks ago when saying it wasn't like her to come home and be a faithful pet again. But right now she was there in front of her, just when she started to lose faith in everything she'd believed for years. When she was giving up on one believe, something else showed up.

If Nymeria could come back to her, maybe not all was lost, a vision of a bull entered her mind as a smalls smile grew on her lips. Maybe not all was lost, Jon was still alive, hopefully, Sansa and her bull as well. They'd have to figure out a lot, but for now, she had her Nymeria back as she felt the sting and coldness from where the Night King grabbed her still there.

It felt like a burn-in so many ways and yet it felt so cold at the same time. Her arm was sore and she feared it might be broken from the force the Night King had grabbed her with. She was exhausted from the fighting and the running. The fear she'd felt when being chased by the death, Beric giving his life to save hers. Clegane giving up his fear for fire to come after her. It seemed she had a lot more going on than just that God of Death who'd failed her so badly tonight.

"Come on Nym," Arya whispered as she pushed herself up, the exhaustion settling in her bones as Nymeria nudged her side. "Oh now you want to come home?" she chuckled, petting her dire-wolfs head, she was about a third larger than Ghost was, she was as tall as a horse and going by the blood around her mouth. Well, she was probably ferocious as well, not that it mattered. Nymeria was back in her life just when all seemed lost, she'd take it as a sign from whatever still was out there. Maybe there was a god of light, he seemed to have done its job tonight. Not that she was a fan of the Red woman, but her god seemed to have helped them after all, lighting the trench.

Or maybe she should return to believing in the old gods as she looked at the weeping tree behind her. Seeing that none were alive in the weir wood, she hung her head, no longer wanting to see death she headed for the keep itself. In a way not all was lost what she'd learned in the house of the undying, she'd learned to heal and at least the living could do with some of that she figured.

"Have you seen Arya? Jon." Gendry asked when Jon walked out of the Great Hall, having seen him carry a body inside with the Queen and the man who'd fought beside him.

"I last saw her in the godswood. She tried to kill the Night King, but her blade shattered." Jon explained, heading in that direction, hoping that leaving his sister behind wouldn't come back to haunt him.

"Is she alright?" Gendry worried, not caring right now if he gave away what he truly felt for Jon's sister. He'd faced the death, after all, he could handle Jon's wrath of Arya wanted him after today.

"I don't know," Jon told him, eyeing Gendry, not that it mattered really. He didn't know Arya's full story or why Gendry was so worried about his sister he'd never met. It seemed to be one of the many things they'd have to get answers too.

A scream, however, caught their attention as both men turned to look ahead of them. And there was the woman they'd been looking for. People looking towards her in fear, but not at her. It was to the giant dire-wolf at her side.

"Nymeria." Jon realised all of a sudden. She'd come to Jorah and Daenarys' rescue along with Ghost. It made sense that it was her now, and all the wolves he'd seen outside of the keep were her pack it would appear.

"Nymeria, her dire-wolf?" Gendry wondered, once again getting the questioning look of Jon.

How the hell did Gendry know about Nymeria? did he know his sister from somewhere? Even then he wouldn't know about Nymeria and if he was confused as to what Gendry and Arya were, it was nothing to how he felt as he saw her run-up to them. Opening his arms, wanting to hold his closest sister or rather a cousin. He'd expected her to jump into his arms, but it wasn't in his arms she landed, but in the arms of the man who stood beside him.

His fellow bastard and friend. Turning his head he could only look on as the two embraced.

When Arya had walked into the keep, she ignored the scream Nymeria seemed to get from the people looking at her. Her eyes were only focussed in one direction, Gendry and Jon. Quickening her pace she hurried over to them.

Seeing that Jon held his arms open, she doubted for a small moment to who she should go first. But the worry and relief on Gendry's face decided for her as she threw her arms around her bull.

"We made it," she whispered, ignoring the pain in her arm as she felt Gendry's arms wrapping around her middle. Squeezing her against him as if he needed her to survive.

"We did." he sighed, breathing her in, there was death and smoke and blood. But he still smelled her, his Arya. He wondered when he'd started to think of her as his Arya, but it seemed right. After all those years of wondering if she lived? Had she been at the twins when they'd been slaughtered and so on. But right now in the aftermath of the battle, he had eyes for only her as he squeezed his arms a little tighter when he felt her kiss the side of his neck.

Pulling back he looked her over there was blood on her head, trailing down her cheek. Her eye itself appeared to be bruised. But when he reached her neck, he couldn't help but let out a small gasp as he saw the fingers there.

"Arya?" he asked, running his thumb over the bruises, none thinking about Jon looking on in confusion and a little bit of anger.

"It's night King's he grabbed me by the throat, I'm fine stupid," she told him as she waved his hand away. "Bruises fade," she added as he nodded his head knowing she wouldn't like being fussed over in a courtyard filled with people.

"Jon, what happened?" Arya asked, finally turning to her brother as she walked up to him, touching his arm as he looked down at her.  
"I'll tell you later," he promised her, first he needed to talk to Daenarys, tell her she was pregnant, then he'd tell Sansa and Arya about who he really was and they'd go from there.

There was not much else they could do at this point. They needed to take care of their injured, then the death and the talk about the deal Bran had struck with the Night King.

"How do you know each other?" Jon inquired with his eyes a little pressed together as he looked at Gendry and Arya. "I'll tell you later when the injured have been cared for," Arya promised him with a meaningful look as she begged him to let it go for now.

"Later, but don't think you'll get away with it," he told his sister as he pulled her against him. Taking comfort that he hadn't lost her at least. He'd seen a small glimpse of Sansa earlier and he'd make sure she was alright next. Closing his eyes, he kissed the top of his little sister's head.

"I love you," he whispered as he felt Arya tightening her arms around him.

"Nymeria?" he asked as the wolf finally moved from where she'd stopped walking.

"Aye, she must have fought along in the battle," Arya said as the dire wolf stopped beside the Stark siblings, neither noticed that Gendry took a few steps back. Afraid from the huge beast that stood in front of him and was Arya's dire wolf.

"She protected Daenarys and Jorah along with Ghost and her pack," Jon explained as Arya turned to look at her dire wolf, digging her fingers into her thick pelt. Well if Nymeria thought that Daenarys was worth fighting for in battle. Then maybe she should give her a chance as well, the Targaryen girl had fought alongside them, putting everything on the line as much as the rest of them.

Letting go of her pelt when Nymeria stepped between them, heading for the scared looking Gendry.

She waited and watched, she trusted Nymeria, if she thought the people were worth fighting for, she'd trust her. She wondered what she'd do to Gendry though, as the man she now realised she loved.

She didn't call her back as Gendry took another step back, but Nymeria was quicker as she nudged his cheek, before sniffing him out. What Nymeria did next was just another confirmation, another sigh as she sat down in front of Gendry and started to lick the blood away from his hands and face.

"She seems to trust him," Jon noted from beside Arya, hoping she'd tell him something at least. "Later brother," she told him with a small smile as she decided to go and save Gendry from her dire wolf's attention.

"Gendry this is Nymeria." Arya smirked as Gendry looked at her with uncertain eyes. "she won't hurt you, she wouldn't be licking you if she didn't like you believe me." Arya reassured him as she took Gendry's hand in hers.

"Come on Nym," Arya said as they headed for the great hall, the room filled to the brim with injured people and more seemed to come in every second it seemed.

Looking around, she saw Jorah resting on a table nearby, Sam seemed to have finished as he was now working on others. Daenarys was sat beside him with one of the people who'd arrived before the battle begun. But she told something to him as she got up and started to take care of the people as well as the guy ordered three of the Dothraki to help him as they carried Jorah away. She wondered if he was still alive or not.

Then her eyes scanned the room, all the injured people being cared for by the women, Maester, Sam, Sansa, Daenerys.

"Oh thank the old gods, you're alive," Sansa said as she appeared before enveloping Arya in her arms. "Are you alright? do you need the Maester?" Sansa asked as she pulled back and noticed the bruises.

"It's nothing Sansa please, these people need us more than I need help," she explained to her sister as Sansa gave her one more look before nodding her head as they started to help the people. Gendry told her he'd be back later but that he was going to help outside for now, that he wouldn't be of much use inside as it was already crowded.

"Come back to me?" Arya asked, feeling like such a damn moron but she couldn't help it. So much had happened in one night, she wanted to hold on to what she still had left and gave her strength.

"Always," Gendry told her as he gave her hand a small squeeze.

**So that's the new chapter, I hope you liked what I did with it, please do leave behind your comments, I'd love to know your thoughts on it, also as we now have a pregnancy and a baby on the way I'd like to ask you to suggest some names you might have for the baby of Jon and Daenerys. I'm looking forward to the suggestions and once again your advice and tips are always appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3 - where is Bran?

_**Summary: **_Bran is gone, but few are aware. With the injured taken care off, the unasked questions of what happened starts to surface. Now they need to handle the answers that come with it.

**A/n: ****I'm looking forward to see what names you can come up with. Also, I've been trying to clean up some of the lies we've been fed over the years. I hope some of them will make more sense now, so please tell me your thoughts on them. If you're happy with them or not**.

Sansa watched as every one of the wounded was brought in. But she wondered where her brother was. Sure she could understand that he wanted to stay in the weir wood, where he spent most of his days now. But why couldn't he come in, just to show her that he was alright? Looking at Arya, she hoped that she might know where he was.

"Arya have you seen Bran and Theon?" she asked her younger sister when's he pulled away from the injured soldier she'd been tending to. "Sansa," Arya whispered, realising that no one had informed Sansa that her brother was gone. She'd hoped that Jon would have done it, or someone else.

But then again, everyone who'd been there had died, there was no one to bring the message that Theon and Bran, their brother and almost adoptive brother had laid down their lives.

"What is it?" Sansa asked, looking down at Arya and hoped that the look she saw in her eyes wasn't some warning of the news to follow.

"I don't know how it happened, Jon was there before me. But Theon is dead along with Bran. Theon's body is still there, but I couldn't find any proof of Bran ever having been there, except his chair, I'm so sorry Sansa." Arya told her younger sister as she sunk onto the bench behind her, staring out in front of her in disbelief.

Arya could only look at her older sister as the news registered in her. That their brother and Theon were gone, with no explanation of what happened. She hoped that Jon would know more, but right now all of them were left with a ton of questions and no one left to answer for them.

Looking down at her sister she finally caved as she put her head in her hands, crying. Her shoulders shaking as the grief of their now-dead brother and Theon hit home. But even Arya was made, they didn't even have a body of Bran to burn or to proof that he was really gone. There was only the empty chair he'd used, nothing else.

"Where is Jon? Was he there?" Sansa asked, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked up to Arya. "I don't know Sansa, I only know that Bran and everyone else was already dead except for Jon when I arrived in the Godswoods," Arya explained to her older sister, regret and defeat noticeable in her voice.

Why couldn't they have helped them? Why hadn't Jon stopped the Night King from killing their brother? Had he even been there?

"What's wrong?" Daenarys asked, having seen them talking to each other. Sansa bursting out in tears as she went to sit beside Sansa, looking up at Arya, hoping to finally get some answers. They hadn't gotten along before he battle, the atmosphere between them had always felt like a bow being drawn to release.

There was so much to find out, but right now she regretted how she hadn't made more of an effort to these two important people in Jon's life.

"Bran he's dead." Arya pointed out, the thing that all of them had been told shouldn't happen. If Bran died, then so would the rest of them. Their history, all memories of the living and men would vanquish, it had been why Jon had rushed to the keep. To protect his brother, to make sure that hadn't happened. But it did.

"It can't be," Daenerys said, looking between the two Stark sisters a she went to wrap her arm around Sansa, hoping to give her some comfort.

If Bran was dead, then all was lost, he was the connection he'd told them. With him dead, the Night King should have all the power, it would be so easy to kill them all. But why hadn't he? Where was he? Why had all the wights and every dead person just disappeared? None of it made sense.

"Jon was there, I'm not sure if he even saw Bran alive anymore," Arya told them what little she knew, and it wasn't much, to begin with.

"We'll find the answers, Sansa," Arya promised her with a small smile on her face. They needed to stay hopeful, the conclusion of the battle though was hard to figure out. Had they won? Had they lost? Who had they lost? What for even if the night king was still there?

"Most of the injured ones have been taken care off now," Daenerys told them, looking around the Great Hall, the steady stream of people had stopped coming in, the hall was already filled. Those severely injured would soon be taken to rooms so they could rest in peace. The other ones had already started to retire to where it was safe to do so. The crypts had become a temporarily place for people to gather, the non injured of less injured ones at least.

Her thoughts turned to Jorah in the solar of her room, recovering as well. Sam had done his best, she'd been there, watching his every move as the young man who'd fled Old Town treated her dearest friend. There were still some looks being thrown her way, but not like before and she was grateful for that.

She wondered if she'd been on the way to being the Mad Queen like her father had been the Mad King. She never wanted to become her father, to burn innocent alive. She wanted to be a just ruler. The battle it seemed had shaken her awake as to what really mattered and it wasn't just the Iron Throne, there was more to life than that.

"We still haven't got the answers though," Sansa said, turning in the direction of the Targaryen Queen, who was trying to comfort her with her smaller frame. Something had changed in her, the look in her eye was different and she could feel it as well.

The battle and having seen what they did, it had changed all of them so much. There would be scars left for years to come and she wasn't sure if they were even finished with everything. Cersei, the current Mad Queen still sat on the throne. From what she'd been told, the Night King wasn't dead. He'd just returned from where he came, back North. She wondered why on earth that was as she tried to come up with an answer, but none seemed plausible.

When the door opened to the great Hall, Jon, Gendry, Sandor, Jaimie and a few more men came in. Nightfall had already returned. The entire day had been spent in treating the injured and making sure they were looked after. She wasn't sure what the men had gotten up to outside though. They'd long stopped bringing in the injured. The more seriously injured ones were being brought to rooms inside of the keep. All close enough so the Maester and Sam wouldn't have to run back and from, all nearby so they could get further treatment.

The Great Hall had emptied more or less, the Crypts were now a temporarily home. The Keep had sustained to much damage to let them go into the houses or the tent that had been set up. The Crypts was the only thing that was still as it was before the battle.

Sansa shot up and hurried over to Jon. "What happened to Bran?" Sansa demanded, wanting to know what had happened to her brother as Jon turned his head to look at Daenerys.

Was she even aware that she was pregnant? Not to his knowledge and right now he wanted to talk to her. She'd become his confidant, not only his lover and woman that he loved. It would be them sacrificing their child in a year since Bran had struck the deal.

He understood why he did it, to protect the innocent, he didn't have to like it though. It wouldn't be Bran's child that would be sacrificed like a sacrificial lamb to that mad fucker.

"Sansa," Jon whispered, taking her hands in his, needing to make sure that she understood that she'd get all of the answers next. But first Daenerys needed to be told, he knew that pushing Arya and Sansa away, for now, may seem wrong, but he was only following his heart. Why had he been the only one to be made aware of this deal? Would the others even believe him?

"I promise I'll explain everything soon, but first I need to talk to Queen Daenerys. I swear it to you that as soon as I'm done talking to her, I'll tell you everything," he told her, bending a little at the knees to look at her on the same eye level.

"Promise me?" Sansa asked, not wanting to wait any longer, but she could see, there was something in Jon's eyes. He knew the answer to most of the questions that'd been going around. And if she needed to wait a little longer, well she may not like it, but she respected Jon enough to do it.

"I promise Sansa and to you as well Arya," Jon said, looking at Arya to his left beside Gendry. And after that he'd get the answers to those two as well, Jon wouldn't be the only one explaining a couple of things.

He needed to get to the bottom of what she and Gendry were and the sooner the better. But for now, she nodded her head in agreement at what Jon had said.

"Your Grace, is there someplace where we can talk alone?" Jon said, not sure how she felt. He remembered the anger coming off of her last night in the crypts when he'd told her of who he was, who his parents were. He hoped she'd calmed a little, it wouldn't be easy telling her.

She'd been made to believe that she couldn't have any children. Now she was pregnant, something she'd wanted and longed for if he were to believe their nightly chats they'd had on the boat over here. And now that they were going to have a baby, it was all going to be taken away from her, from them. He'd swear to her that he'd never let that happen. Even if it meant giving his own life, he wouldn't let their child become one of them.

"Jon," Daenarys said as they headed to his father's solar, where he hoped he could talk to her alone.

The moment the door closed behind them, Daenerys turned to him. She'd felt the tension of it all when they'd walked over here. Jon's uncertainty of how she'd react, she didn't want him to be afraid of her. That was the last thing she wanted, he was the only family she had left. Family and a lover at that, but that wasn't uncommon with the Targaryens and it wasn't like they'd known either was it?

"Jon, I want to apologise for my actions last night down in the crypts. I was got off guard and I didn't really see what really mattered. Yes, you're the rightful heir to the throne, but after what I saw tonight, it shouldn't really matter anymore should it. Life is what matters now who gets to rule and I love you that's all that matters. We can rule together as Targaryens." Daenerys said, taking his hands in hers, the rough skin brushing against her softer skin as he looked down at her.

"I'm really sorry about all of this Daenerys. I hoped it was different, but now it explains as to why Rhaegal took to me so easily. I wish I could tell you I wasn't your nephew, but I am. But like you said, life is what matters, I don't want the throne. It's been yours for so long, I do not care for it, the only thing I care about is the people and us. I love you to Dany." Jon whispered, opening up to her, happy that she wasn't angry with him anymore, it had weighed on him that she might not love him anymore. Even hate him for what he'd become, a Targaryen, an enemy to her and her birthright, the Iron Throne.

But it seemed that the battle had done something to all of them. But he figured that fighting the dead would put things in a different light to how they were before.

"We agree than Jon," Dany said with a hopeful tone as they stood in front of the roaring fire, her lilac eyes looking up into his dark brown ones.

"That we should rule together, we face Cersei, take back what's ours and rule together. We break the wheel together, let every person, small folk and high born have a voice." Dany whispered, with a hopeful tone as she looked in the eyes of the man that she loved.

She'd seen how much the people loved Jon. All of them, they respected him for the natural leader that he was. Together they'd be able to rule and break the wheel that pressed down on the small folk. She wanted to better that world, change it for the better.

"I would Dany, but there is something you have to know first," he told her, he wanted to be completely honest with her. Lay all the cards on the table, it was their future that hung in the balance. Cersei wasn't the only threat as they'd been made to believe or hoped for. The Night King was still very much a threat to them, whether they liked it or not.

He could see her rising up again as he nudged her a little, to make sure that she was seated. He wasn't sure how she was going to take the following news and he didn't want anything to happen to her either.

"I know the reason why the Night King left with his army," Jon uttered, crouching down in front of her, taking her hands in his as he rested them on top of her knees.

"And why is that?" She asked him with a tilt of her head, leaning a bit closer as Jon took her two hands in his one hand.

"Bran struck a deal with him. He was allowed to kill him if he left the living alone." Jon whispered, bending his head down. He still felt terrible about all of it. He should have been there on time, to kill the Night King. He'd failed Bran, he'd failed Daenerys and their unborn child.

"I'm really sorry about what happened to Bran, Jon. I wish I could do something to bring him back, to bring him back but I can't," she told him, cupping his cheek in her hand as he leant into her touch.

"It's not all Dany," he whispered, opening his eyes again to look at her. This was all so messed up? They had peace yes, but how long till The Night King decided to break the deal and he came back south?

"What else could there be?" Dany whispered, confused as to what else there could be. Bran had offered up his life so their lives could continue in peace. She didn't like that Jon had lost his brother because of it, but it was done. The living were saved, she'd have done the same if she could.

"The terms of the deal," Jon exclaimed, looking up at Dany, he knew it would break her. She'd longed for so long to have a child. And now that the curse she'd believed in for so long was apparently broken, or there never had been one, to begin with. He didn't care about that, all he cared about was the safety of their child and her.

"He wants a child offered to him each year, a baby," Jon told her with a heavy sigh as she shook her head at him. "I could never ask a parent to give up their child Jon. Not to that monster." Daenerys uttered, she knew how it felt to lose a child. How could she ask another person to give up there? It just didn't feel right, it never would. And though even it may just be a child once a year. To those parents, it would be a child forever lost.

"I know Dany, but he wants our child to be brought to him next year. Bran showed me a vision shortly before he died, you're pregnant and he wants our first child to be offered up to him." Jon told her as Daenerys' eyes widened at the news, she didn't know what to believe of it.

She'd been told, no, she'd believed for years now that she couldn't have any children. The curse of that witch who killed Drogo had seen to that. And now Jon was telling her that she wasn't only pregnant with their child. It was to be offered up to that monster as a sacrificial lamb.

"You know I can't get pregnant, Jon," Daenerys said she didn't want to believe it could be possible. Had the curse been broken? Now of all times, just when the Night King wanted that deal to be struck.

"I know Dany, but I also said that the woman wasn't the most reliable source either. What if you are?" he asked his lover as she took a hand out of his hold to place it above her womb. Was there a child growing inside of her again? Their child?

"Jon, if I'm pregnant, I can't give up our child to that monster," Daenerys said, starting to shake her head as her vision started to cloud over with tears.

"We'll figure something out Dany, I won't let our child be turned into one of those white walkers. I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to save our child." Jon swore to her as he cupped her face in between his hands, looking into her lilac eyes.

"I don't want to lose another child," Daenerys whispered, dropping her head against Jon's, taking comfort from him as she rested her hand on her womb.

She was no longer hoping for it to be true. She'd seen what Bran could do. He could see the future if he said that she carried a child, then it would be so. And if she reached deep inside of her, she knew it as well.

It would explain why she'd been so cranky, why she'd been feeling ill during the day. She'd never felt that, except for when she'd been pregnant with Rhaego. She was pregnant with their child, the curse was broken. But what the future could bring, The Night King hadn't been handled at all as they'd hoped.

No everything had just become more complicated than it already was. There were still two enemies, one to the north and one to the South. They'd have to take care of the one in the South, they'd need to unify the Seven Kingdoms by this time next year. If they were to stand a second chance against the Night King once more, well than they'd have to be a united front.

"You won't," Jon promised her as Dany leant in to kiss his lips. "We need to unify the Seven Kingdoms," Dany said, planning for the other war to come.

"I know," Jon whispered, knowing they couldn't be squabbling amongst themselves anymore. Those days had to be over if they were to truly defeat the Night King once and for all and then there could hopefully be peace once and for all.

"And we will Dany, but first I want to tell Sansa and Arya about everything. They've lived in such a lie for years as well. They need to be told. We'll take rest from there." Jon told her with a tilt of her head, hoping she wouldn't mind him telling his cousins about the truth, the real truth. He could only hope that they still considered him family as well. He didn't want to lose them too, Sansa he'd never been that close to till now. But Arya had always been his favourite sibling and he didn't want to lose her.

"Alright," Dany whispered, nodding her head in agreement. They had so much to do and only a year to do it as she looked at Jon before. But she hoped that they'd be able to do it, together.

"Let's tell them everything then, they deserve to know what happened to Bran and why. They'll have a bigger part to play in the year to come. Let's not keep them in the dark." Daenerys said as Jon nodded his head in agreement at that.

"I'll ask someone to bring them here," he whispered, standing up, but not before he kissed the top of her head.

"So you're a Targaryen?" Sansa pondered on the thought as she sat opposite of Daenerys in front of the fire. She was trying to see what Daenerys thought about it. She didn't seem to be too unhappy about it as she looked up at Jon with the same eyes she'd been giving him since they arrived.

"Yes, so it would seem. I'm really sorry about this, all of it. I may no longer be your brother but I still love you two the same." Jon reassured them, taking a careful look at Arya, she hadn't said a word since she'd been told about all of it. Not when she'd been told about Bran and how he had made the deal with the Night King, not when Sansa had asked What the two of them were.

"You're still our brother Jon." Arya finally spoke up as she got off of the table she'd been sitting on. "You'll always be our brother, no matter what. And I'll help in any way I can to make sure that my niece or nephew doesn't end up in the hands of that monster." Arya uttered, looking between Daenerys and Jon, the promise clear in her eye.

"I won't let anything happen to it," she swore as both Jon and Daenerys nodded their heads in appreciation.

"So how are we going to get started?" Sansa finally said, already thinking of ways to get everything dealt with. Everyone was tired, they hadn't even been able to say goodbye to there lost ones yet. And now they had to go and tell them that the battle hadn't really been won.

"We start by telling everyone about Jon's heritage, explain the deal that Bran struck with The Night King. And then we make a plan." Daenerys said, rising up from her chair, turning her had to look out the window. It was already dark, a day had gone by since they'd been attacked by the dead. And she wasn't looking forward to telling all of them that they might have to fight them again.

"Let's get the council together, we can't wait that much longer if we have only a year." Arya agreed as they all headed outside of her father's office, or what used to be his office. Daenerys was right, they had so much to do and only a year to do it. They didn't even know how to kill the Night King. Valerian steel certainly hadn't done it, so what else was there? Dragon fire? No didn't work either. Dragon glass didn't seem to do job either as Arya tried to think of something they hadn't used.

But it seemed even their strongest weapons were nothing compared to the power of the Night King. She hoped that they'd be able to find a solution, cause the Night King couldn't live, it wasn't possible.

****  
Standing in the war room where they'd prepared themselves earlier for the battle past. Looking around the room, all these people, all of them had survived for one reason or another. Arya could only look on in from her place around the table as they were informed that Jon was Aegon Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne.

That had started a raucous, to say the least, especially from the Northman. They'd followed him in the belief that he was Ned Stark's son. And now it appeared he wasn't, not anymore. What she didn't get was why though? What difference did it make? They believed in him, in Jon as a person, they respected for the person he was.

A now it seemed to be all for nought. She couldn't hear the arguing and the yelling anymore as she took a step closer to the table.

"Will all of you just shut up," Arya demanded, she hadn't even raised her voice, not that much at least. But it was enough to make everyone go quiet.

"You have something to say?" Lord Royce asked her as she raised her brow at him.

"You were all willing to follow Jon into the battle for the dead. You all respected him, chose him as your leader. Sure him being my father's so-called bastard probably played a part. But would you have followed Jon if he wasn't the person who stands here in front of you? He may not be my father's son, but he still has the blood of the Starks. Not by my father, but through aunt Lyanna. If you can't get passed the idea of him being a Targaryen, then what use is there?

I still see him as my brother, he lead all of you into battle. You believed in him. No matter who his parents are, he's still the same person you all chose to be your King a few months ago. Act like it, cause there are far more important things than who's the son of who." Arya finished her speech, she couldn't hear it anymore, It was probably the most anyone had heard her talking since her return to Winterfell.

But it seemed to serve it's purpose though as all the lords stood around the table, looking at one another. Waiting to have someone react and she was sure that if one said one more bad word, they'd be dealt with.

"You're right Lady Arya." Lord Royce said, all the other Northern lords agreeing with him as they stood back. waiting to hear more of what Jon and Daenerys had to tell them.

"I'm sure all of you have wondered why they all retreated and I'm sure that some of you might not believe me. But shortly before Bran was killed he warged me into a vision of his. Bran struck a deal with the Night King. He'd give his life in order for the Night King to retreat to the land of Always Winter." Jon started to explain, the silence was deafening all around him as they waited for the answers that they were finally going to get.

"So we don't have to fight him anymore." One of the Northern Lord said with some relief to his voice. "I wouldn't say that," Jon said with a heavy sigh.

"First of all, he may have retreated now, but who says he's going to keep himself to the deal he struck. Bran isn't here to keep an eye on him, we have no certainty that he'll keep him to his part of the deal." Jon pointed out, it wasn't too crazy to think now, was it? They'd never heard the fucker speak till now.

"And what else does he want?" Tyrion wondered from his place beside Daenerys and Jaimie. He had a feeling that he wasn't getting the entire story here. And it worried him as well, what else was going to get thrown their way?

"He wants a child every year to be delivered to him so he can turn it into a white walker. It's a deal he had with Crasters behind the wall it seems." Jon explained, looking around the room, trying to see what everyone's reaction was to it.

"We can't ask someone to give up their child." Someone pointed out to his right.

"He wants the child of me and Daenerys to be delivered to him one year from now," Jon explained to everyone in the room as he watched the eyes of everyone around them bulge.

"Your Grace, I thought you couldn't have any children," Tyrion noted, looking up at Daenerys with a confused glance and shake of his head. Just when he thought things couldn't get more complicated, they always did.

"When the sun sets in the east and rises in the west." Melisandre could be heard saying as she turned to Daenerys as her eyes widened, she remembered those words that Mirri Maz Duur had told her after killing Drogo and her child Rhaego.

"Not all prophecies have to be seen literally, Daenerys is fire and would refer to her as the sun, she set sail in the east and rose in the West," Melisandre explained as Daenerys felt her stomach churning, she'd never thought about it like that really. Could it be that the reference of the sun had simply meant her going to Westeros?

"What about the rest of the prophecy?" Daenerys wondered, looking at the Red woman.

"When the seas go dry, and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves." Melisandre recited the full prophecy, still looking at Daenerys as if there wasn't anyone around her anymore. Just Daenerys, the rest of the people in the room could only look between the two of them. Waiting to hear what the prophecy was about and what it meant.

Almost none had known that Daenerys couldn't get any children, except for a few. But yet going by what Jon had just told them, she had to be pregnant to give their child to the Night King next year.

"What does that refer to?" Daenerys asked, needing to know if the prophecy had really come true. If Mirri Maz Duur had ben truthful about it all.

"The seas have gone dry in the North your Grace, all water beyond the wall and the seas around it have gone dry because of ice. And the mountains blow in the wind like leaves." Melissandre paused as she looked towards the window. It was dark, but she knew who resided out there.

"Not to sound cruel Your Grace, but have you seen your dragons? They could be seen as mountains when they fly, it's like leaves travelling on the wind. And so the prophecy was fulfilled as your womb started to quicken with a child once more." Melissandre finished, confirming that Daenerys was truly pregnant with Jon's child.

"But I won't lose my child to that monster. I won't have it. We need to send word to the Old Town, try and figure out a way to deal with him once and for all." Jon demanded, looking around. Arya had already made it clear that Valryian steel didn't do the trick anymore. By killing Bran it had strengthened him even more, it wasn't a good thing at all.

How were you supposed to kill it when nothing seemed to work against him.

"But what about the Iron Throne? Will Jon be the heir now? Are we even taking the Iron Throne any longer?" Tyrion asked, looking at Daenerys for answers.

"The throne doesn't really matter to me anymore Tyrion, Jon and I will rule together. Even your problem of succession is resolved since I am with child. As Jon said, our child is the main priority, the Night King must be dealt with before it is born." Daenerys pointed out with small glare in Tyrion's direction

"We've already lost so much, I won't stand to lose more," Daenerys added, looking around the room.

"And it isn't only about my child Tyrion, it's about hundreds of children for years to come. I won't let innocent children be offered as a sacrifice like that. I won't allow it and neither will Jon." Daenerys added, looking towards Jon, stood beside her, her hand slipping into his as they stood as one united front.

"You're right, as is Jon, we're all still in danger from him. Like Jon said, how do we know he'll keep to the deal." Tyrion noted, nodding his head as others nodded along to that statement.

"Well, Cersei can't stay on the throne either. If we're to face this Night King then we must present a united front. Be a united front, all of Westeros against the Night King. That can't be done with Cersei on the Iron Throne." Varys explained and he did have a point there. With Cersei on the throne, Westeros was a divided continent. The Night King could come in at any moment again and they'd still struggle to fight them off.

"That's all good to hear and I agree with that. But how are we going to stop him?" Jaimie wondered, looking around the room. Having shared a battle with the Northman had lessened their hate towards him a little. They were still distrustful without a doubt. But the hatred he'd seen in their eyes had lessened to what it had been before.

"I mean, Dragonfire can't kill him, Valaryian steal can't kill him. If that doesn't do it, what does?" he asked the important question on everyone's mind. How were they supposed to kill him?

"There is a way." Melisandre spoke up from where she'd been quiet ever since talking to Daenerys. "The same way Azor Ohai stopped the dead once before." she paused, walking closer up to the table.

"It's a sword, a special sword, one made with magic. It will take sentinels to forge and I'll oversee the process myself," she told everyone around the room as they nodded their heads. They had some hope after all, if it would work, that was entire different matter. The only thing they could do was try.

"Well we have time then to unite the seven kingdoms, the deal must be handed over in a year. With two rightful Targaryens who've already proven themselves to be leaders and respected ones at that with an heir on all the great houses will be on their side." Varys said with a hopeful voice, looking at Jon and Daenerys as he nodded at them.

"The North is already with them," Sansa spoke up, looking at her cousin and his future Queen. Family, duty, honour rung in her ears as well as the lessons her parents had taught her. Family came above all else and she didn't intend to let her niece or nephew be handed over like a pig for slaughter.

Lord Royce who'd fought with them on the battlefield. Having seen Daenerys and Jon fighting alongside them. They weren't monarchs who'd let the people do their work for them. They were there with them fighting along in their own battles. That alone had earned them his respect as he stepped forward.

"The Vale supports Queen Daenerys and King Jon as well," he spoke up, his gruff voice filling the room.

"Alright, then we must have a plan. We won't march on King's landing yet, we'll let the troops recover first." Daenerys said them all as Varys stepped forward.

"With your permission Your Grace, I'll set sail for Dorne, there is a new Prince there. I'll try and get our alliance with him like it was before. I'll also send word to Yara to get ready as well;" Varys said, looking at his two rulers for confirmation that he could go and try and establish new alliances.

"You may go the day after tomorrow, first we burn the dead tomorrow morning. And in the evening we'll celebrate the living." Daenerys offered up as it was met with a smile of Varys.

"First though." she called everyone back to attention as they turned back to look at them.

"Gendry," she asked, he'd been invited with everyone else into the room. he wasn't quite sure why though. Sure it was nice to know what had happened. Why the dead had gone back without having won the battle.

"You're Robert Baratheon's bastard?" Daenerys asked and stated all at the same time. "I am," he confirmed with a single nod of his head, not really sure where this was going to be headed.

"You're the last Baratheon that we know off. Though this might seem like a strategic move, I want to thank you for the work you did on the Dragonglass weapons and for all that you've done since we met. For that, I legitimize you as Lord Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm's end and Warden of the South. I'd urge you to join Varys on his Journey south. Gather your troops and get ready to march on King's landing." Daenerys stated as Gendry stood there, nailed to the ground.

"I don't know how to be a lord Your Grace," Gendry uttered with a bit of shame. "We'll help you, I'm sure Varys will gladly teach you on the journey south," Daenerys said as Varys gave him a reassuring smile and nod of his head.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Gendry whispered, nodding his head at them. "To lord Gendry Baratheon," Jon called out as they all repeated after him, chanting his new title.

***  
**So that was the chapter, I hope you liked it, it was a lot of conversations but I think it was neccesary at this point. I hope you'll leave behind your thoughts. I'm always looking forward to seeing suggestions and tips that I might not have thought of.**


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